


and i swear i’d love you if i could

by thebetterbina



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: M/M, but they don't say it, his teen?? adult body idk, horny but not overtly horny, shinichi "i have bad taste in men" kudou, shinichi doesn't shrink, shinichi is having an affair with a burglar, they're really horny for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21770029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebetterbina/pseuds/thebetterbina
Summary: Fuck.That’s the single thought running through Shinichi’s head as he gets roughly pushed up against the alley brick wall, he feels the light scrape of clay—but doesn’t get much time to process anything beyond that when he gets punched.On the mouth.With a mouth.The Phantom Thief strikes again.
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 3
Kudos: 258





	and i swear i’d love you if i could

**Author's Note:**

> unbetad, catch me with those mistakes
> 
> short but im proud of this one! due thanks given to [@nekuroomas](https://twitter.com/nekuroomas) for picking me up and throwing me into this mess

Fuck.

That’s the single thought running through Shinichi’s head as he gets roughly pushed up against the alley brick wall, he feels the light scrape of clay—but doesn’t get much time to process anything beyond that when he gets punched. 

On the mouth.

With  _ a _ mouth.

Shinichi almost regrets the fact he has bad taste in men.

He uses the word  _ almost _ very carefully, because there’s also a lot about the current situation the sexually frustrated part of his masochistic mind is actively enjoying—and if phantom thieves in white suits with stupid monocles counted as “bad taste but also hot” to his mind he hesitates to know the full spectrum of his depravity. 

But that’s just him being dramatic. 

There’s a firm body pressing against him, his fingers tightly gripping the lapels of the ridiculous suit as if the space between their bodies could be closed further. Blithely, a part of his still-functioning brain registers the fabric under his fingertips—expensive, well-tailored and undoubtedly sown in with more secrets than he could count. 

Tonight’s heist is no different to Kaito’s usual, a pretentious announcement of his intended act a week prior, then an entire charade of trained doves and a  _ hand glider  _ has the thief skipping away with the Pink Panther diamond—the Japanese police hot on his trail and the French government kicking up the biggest fuss at having their most prized jewel taken. But really, and Shinichi wants to scoff at this point, Kaito has a running streak of very successful heists and people should  _ really _ know better than to go around announcing the arrival of a precious, rare French jewel into Japanese territory; exposition or whatever notwithstanding.

Precious, rare and jewel are just three words Shinichi learns never to string together if a person doesn’t want to attract the attention of the rather infamously successful thief. 

But that’s not the point. 

He gives a broken moan around the kiss, Kaito’s more than skilful tongue mapping out the entirety of his mouth and nipping his lips rather playfully as he pulls away—the string of saliva the only evidence to the borderline illegal make out session he’d been hauled into. Kaito continues peppering kisses, mostly chaste, leaving a breathy chuckle against his ear that has Shinichi go weak in the knees.

The point is he’s supposed to be a prodigy detective raking in solved cases and putting away notorious criminals, not some blushing mess with a stupid crush on a  _ burglar _ .

“Were you impressed?”

The lilt in his teasing tone is enough to set Shinichi in what he hopes is his best attempt at a scowl, he also realizes that currently being pinned up against the wall by the cause of his ire and doing nothing to fight against it does nothing for his case.

“Could‘ve done away with the flowers, I’m pretty sure the French hate you now.”

“They can’t hate me.  _ J'ai fait de mon mieux. _ ”

Shinichi only sparingly notes the sudden use of French (and  _ wow _ that has got to be a new kink or something) before those cursed lips are on him again, seeking—almost desperate in the way Kaito moulds them to each other; slotting together effortlessly like puzzle pieces. It’s embarrassing but he’s  _ hard _ , and Kaito knows just the effect he has on Shinichi when he grinds; eliciting the most embarrassing whimper just as the thief mouths along the open column of his neck. 

If ever asked, Shinichi doesn’t exactly know when they began their sordid little affair—he blames it entirely on the rampaging hormones. There’s not many that can stand on the same level as Shinichi, that was what made him such a terrifying detective anyways, and even fewer who could go head-on against him in a game of wits and  _ occasionally _ come out on top.

It was infuriatingly arousing.

Kaito  _ bites _ and Shinichi makes something of a choked sound in the back of his throat, thoughts immediately snapping back to the rather compromising situation of being some seedy alley just fresh after a goddamn heist and being thoroughly ravaged.

“Your beautiful brain is wandering my dear little detective. Focus on me.”

Kaito’s voice drops a few levels, now a silkier baritone, and Shinichi only manages to nod a more than a little fervently—grasping tightly onto the material of the suit and fisting it under his palms. Kaito returns with a satisfied hum, gloved fingertips making their way under his clothes with the detective shivering against the foreign contact. Even with his face out of view Shinichi can tell the moment Kaito smiles, hands now freely roaming upwards across the expanse of his chest. 

The distant sound of heavy footsteps approaching, coupled with Shinichi’s name being called rather worriedly, violently wrenches him to the present. 

Kaito, the ever gentleman, wastes no time disentangling them; while the thief remains immaculate as ever—gone are the hard lines from where Shinichi had been practically attempting to  _ claw _ off the material—the detective very clearly knows just how much of a mess he looks like in comparison; shirt untucked, hair mussed from where Kaito had been less than gentle in fisting brown locks, and he’s almost certain there’s a growing hickey on his neck that he’s going to need to hide with makeup over the next week if he wants to avoid any teasing.

Still, the bastard only  _ laughs _ , taking a gracious step back and bowing like he’d just performed—wrist flexing and presenting the rather pretty pink diamond to Shinichi. 

“For my favourite fan.”

He wants to smack the guy, so desperately wants to slap cuffs on him and call it a day. But instead, Shinichi finds himself fighting back a smile, gently taking back the jewel and blinking as Kaito disappears in a single flash of white and smoke. He thumbs the jewel rather idly, the image of the leaping panther iconic to the diamond glittering under the light—and more to himself, he muses the single thought aloud:

“To next time, Phantom Thief.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm active [on my Twitter](https://twitter.com/therealconnor60)! (´,,•ω•,,)♡


End file.
